Redemption
by Kayliem1999
Summary: What happens when the team leaved Fitz at the base when they go on a routine mission? What happens when everything goes to hell and Fitz is left to save them? Who will he turn to help him save the day? Maybe it's the other outsider locked up in the basement. My take on a redemption fic for Ward. I OWN NOTHING!
1. Chapter 1

Fitz watched in horror as chaos unfolded on the screen he clutched tightly in his hands. He knew it was pointless shouting 'no' like a madman and shaking his tablet, but that was all he could do. The Hydra agents swarming his team couldn't hear him and even if they could, they wouldn't even listen to him. Just put a bullet in his head. Helplessly, he witnessed an agent, one he recognized from the academy all those years before, raise his gun and fire. Before Leo could blink, a bullet flew through the air, lodging itself in Tripp's shoulder. The usually untouchable wall of muscle stumbled forward, leaning into Skye to keep himself from tumbling to the ground. His mouth opened and his face contorted into one of pure pain. Even though the security feed didn't have audio, Fitz could hear the other man's cry of pain echoing in his head.

They should've given him a spot on that mission. At least, listened to him when he said it was a trap. But no, don't listen to Fitz, he's damaged. He can't even think clearly.

Leo ran his hands through his hair leaning back in his chair. He racked his brain for a plan, but his mind was so clouded he struggled to formulate coherent sentences let alone a rescue plan. Then it hit him. Ward. He was just two floors beneath him as strong as ever. Leo knew it was risky, border-line stupid and could've gotten him suspended, but he didn't have much of a choice. Besides, Skye's life was hanging in the balance and despite the fog filling his head, Fitz knew for certain that Grant wouldn't risk that.

So he ran as fast as he could down the stairs leading away from the lab and through the common level. Fumbling with the keys, Leo clattered through the door and stumbled into the containment cell, or basement, whatever it was. Hastily, he tapped around on his tablet and the white wall between him and Ward faded away.

"Fitz," Ward said alarmed, the events of their last meeting fresh in his mind. "Where's Skye? Where's Coulson?"

"Hydra," Fitz gasped. "Has the team."

"What?" Grant asked.

"They went on…a-uh-a…a mission and Hydra was waiting for them at the…uh….warehouse. Trip got shot," Fitz sputtered.

"Is Skye okay?" Grant asked rising to his feet, worry inscribed clearly on his face, deep in the wrinkles that had been carved in the last few months making him look far older than he really was.

"She's in bloody danger, Ward," Fitz exclaimed. "Just like every other member of our team."

Fitz could've recovered from that, stuttered into correcting the 'our' and making it a 'my' instead, but he didn't. It wasn't really his team anymore either. Like Ward, he was just as much of an outsider. The only difference was that Grant's isolation was a punishment for horrible choices he made. Though Fitz was still officially a functioning member of SHIELD, no one saw him that way. His seclusion was a matter of unfortunate circumstances that left him damaged.

"Why are you here?"

"Because I can't save them on my own," Fitz said desperately.

Grant was taken aback by Fitz's statement. He was standing in the Bus again, self-hatred boiling in his stomach as he watched Fitz and Simmons pound on the window of the med-pod. Even when he did nothing, they continued to plead with him. Shout at him that he didn't have to do this, that he could come back to the team and everything would be okay. They were so naïve, just kids with innocence twinkling in their eyes. Looking at Fitz, he could see that he had taken that away. For a split second, he wondered about Simmons. Where she was? How she was doing?

Then, the sound of boots tapping on concrete pulled him out of his guilt trip roughly. Fitz looked agitated, standing with his shoulders squared and his arms crossed over his chest. There was no longer that innocent glint in his eyes, instead something cold and empty.

And there it was, the slap in the face reminder that he had stolen Fitz's innocence. He wasn't a little boy anymore, he was forced to grow up. Forced to become as manipulative and bitter as every other SHIELD agent was.

"Well," Fitz was said impatiently. "We don't have all damn day."

"Alright," Grant agreed. "I'll do it, but…"

"God damn, Ward," Fitz said cutting him off. "You're not really in the position to be making conditions here."

"Okay," Ward said.


	2. Chapter 2

"Who's clothes are these?" Grant asked holding a worn out t-shirt in his hands.

"Yours," Leo said digging through drawers. "Coulson stored all of your effects in the warehouse."

"Why?"

"Skye asked him to," Fitz stated blankly loading up mission kits. Leo looked up at Grant and for a minute he was the old Fitz. The one with a soft expression and an empty gaze when he got really focused on something and he didn't really look at you, but over your shoulder like he saw something you didn't. "She loves you, that's why she hates you as much as she does."

"I've talked to Skye," Grant said pulling on the t-shirt. "She doesn't love me. She hates me and she has every right to."

"Well, you've only seen the Agent Skye Avery side of her," Fitz said pulling on a backpack. He grabbed a gun out of a cabinet and inserted a fresh mag. with a click.

"Are you cleared to use that?" Grant asked.

"Nope," Leo replied. "But neither are you. Desperate times call for desperate measures."

Fitz slid a fully loaded gun across the table in Grant's direction slowly and never taking his eyes off of him. He was putting an awful lot of trust in him and he could try to kill him. Out of spite for what Fitz had done to him only weeks before or to fulfill the order Garrett gave him that he had several months to mull over.

But Grant didn't aim it at the younger man or even remove the safety. Instead he slid it into his waistband like he was still the Grant Ward that had been a member of his team. The one who took care of him on that mission almost a year before. Like he hadn't lied to them or murdered all those people.

"Let's go," Fitz said.

"Where are we going," Ward asked.

"Bolivia," Fitz replied pocketing his phone. "Can you drive a jet?"

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

They couldn't believe it when they saw him. As far as they knew, he was locked up in some SHIELD correctional facility. So when he walked right up to the front door of the seemingly abandoned science building, the men sitting in the security desk couldn't even press the button to open the door.

"Are you going to let me in?" Grant asked irritably. Fitz stood quietly with his head down, his hands bound in chains, guilt etched into his features.

The two men in the security hall stumbled around the room suddenly unable to move fast enough. Eventually, the door slid open and Ward led Leo in roughly. He was met in the entrance by a couple of heavily armed Hydra agents.

"Welcome back, captain," they greeted.

"It's good to be back," Grant smiled. "I've got one more SHIELD nerd to lock up with Coulson's team."

"We can take him off of your hands," the two agents offered.

"No," Grant said. "I'll take care of this myself. What cell block are they in?"

"Cell block six."

Grant nodded his head and dragged a silent Fitz down the winding hallways, past disbelieving agents. Though some believed he was still locked in that facility, word had gotten around that a certain lab technician had taken an attempt at his life. It was hard to believe that Ward was walking down the hallway, let alone with the man that tried to kill him.

Grant continued down the hallway, into the corridors with dimming lights and mold growing from the leaking roof. He pressed his thumb to the security system pad and the door clicked open. Fitz in tow, he walked in the room trying to muster the coldest smile he could. He unbound Leo's hands and shoved him into the dank little cell.

Grant tried not to look in, tried not to see the members of his old team starving and freezing inside the cage. But he did. He saw Tripp looking puny and on the brink of dying in the corner, blood pooling on the grimy cement floor beneath him. May, lines of concentration furrowed in her brow, blotted at Tripp's forehead gently with a piece of cloth that appeared to be torn off of Coulson's suit. Coulson sat in the corner with his head in his hands. Grant knew that little tick meant he was blaming the captivity of his team on himself. Two new members of the team, who's names he didn't know sat with Skye between them.

Skye. She looked bloody and beaten. Even though the cell was humid, she was shivering, rocking back and forth with her knees hugged to her chest. There was a wild look in her eyes and when she looked up at him, it was like she looked through him. Like she had just snapped like a toothpick.

Without a word, Grant slammed the door closed and stalked back up the corridors.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

"What did you do?" Hunter shouted angrily at Fitz.

"Just wait," Fitz assured. "I have a plan."

"You have a plan!" Hunter exclaimed. "You're bloody trapped as all the rest of us."

Fitz smiled to himself sliding down the wall, pulling his legs to his chest. He pulled a walkie talkie out of his pocket and tuned it to radio channel seven and waited.

"Fitz," Coulson asked. "What is that?"

"A walkie-talkie," he said.

"Why do you have it?" May pressed.

"You'll see."


	3. Chapter 3

Fitz sat as the little device in his hands emitted nothing but static. His teammates all stared at him like he had flat out lost what was left of his sanity and maybe he had. After all, he had trusted a traitor. Everyone silently judged him. Well, everyone but Skye. She sat there looking wild, muttering nonsense to herself or someone that only she could see. Fitz reminded himself to ask about that later.

Distant gunshots could be heard, clicking faintly in the distance like popcorn. Without a falter in his giddy gaze, Fitz pulled out a little tablet from a pocket and began taping away. And through the ear splitting static broke Grant's gruff voice.

"What now, Fitz?" Grant asked heavy footfalls filling the gaps in his words.

"To your right there is a hallway, take that and there will be two guards a few yards down. The alarms haven't been triggered yet so hurry."

Leo climbed to his feet and ignored the disbelieving stares from the people around him. He pressed a few keys and the door encaging them like animals slid open. He turned to face his awestricken team and saw that no one had moved a muscle.

"Well, we haven't got all bloody day," Leo said, putting his hands on his hips. "Let's get a move on."

May and Coulson were the first to move, easing Tripp off of the ground and into a slumped standing position. The two threw his arms over their shoulders and laced their own extremities around his back, supporting his weight. Lance pulled Skye up and when she didn't do anything, but star blankly, he muttered a string of obscenities and picked her up cradling her body in his arms.

Fitz led them through the rows of rooms, sneaking past Hydra operatives. They could hear two gunshots down a hallway and everyone pressed themselves against the wall to the best of their ability, holding their breath. Leo stood in the middle of the hallway, even as the hurried footsteps pounded closer and closer. Much to their surprise, it was Grant Ward who rounded the corner with a big bag bulging with various grades of lethal weapons.

No one really moved, just staring at the traitor, calculating his next move. They were distracted from their stare down by a few bullets being fired, acutely missing their heads. Without a word, they rushed down the hallway.

Ward tossed Leo a gun and he, probably because the adrenaline pumping through his veins, turned and fired hitting four men each in the middle of their chests.

"How do we get out of here?" Lance asked struggling to keep a hold on Skye. It wasn't like she was helping much, lying limp in his arms her head flopping around with every step that he took.

"The hangar is just around the corner," Ward shouted over the alarm that had started blaring. "We have probably three minutes until the building goes on complete lock down."

Grant lifted Skye out of Lance's arms, holding her in his arms like she weighed absolutely nothing. Leo, kind of running sideways at this point, continued to shoot bullets rapid fire. Somehow he had found a second gun and held it in his hand as if he wasn't a damaged lab tech, but really a field specialist who had been licensed to kill.

"May," Coulson shouted. "How long will it take you to take off."

"How much time do we have?" May yelled back.

"Two minutes," Lance replied checking his watch.

"I can do it in half of that?" She said as they all climbed up the cargo deck of the jet Ward had flown in.

Grant sat Skye on one of the benches, strapping her in securely. When she just stared at him, he turned around and helped Coulson lay Tripp down on the med-cot. Fitz crouched down next to them, examining Tripp carefully.

"Do you know how to treat him?" Coulson asked, looking at Fitz expectantly.

But the adrenaline had worn off and he was Leo Fitz again, no longer a genius, but a stuttering, pitiful mess. "I don't know," Fitz said looking down at his shaking hands.

"I can," Grant said rolling up the sleeves on his t-shirt.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

"You did good today," May says looking over at Fitz.

"I froze up the second we got out," Fitz mumbled.

"But we got out," May reminded him. "Because of you."

"That was pretty cool, wasn't it?" Leo chuckled.

"I'm proud of you," May smiled at him, a motherly look glowing in her usually hallow brown eyes.

"Thanks."


	4. Chapter 4

Skye stared ahead, unable to erase the images of that man from her mind. She could still feel his fingers tracing shapes on her arms, still taste his horrible lips on her own that were raw from his force. And worst of all, his bare skin against her own. His callused hands squeezing her butt as he invaded her body.

Her throat still burned from the screams that had clawed their way up her windpipe. Eyes still stung from the tears that spilled down her cheeks. Skye just felt empty, like he had drained her entirely of herself.

"Skye," someone said softly. She could feel their hand rested gently on her right knee and their other cupping her cheek, their thumb stroking her cheek. Skye didn't look to see who it was, but the hands felt familiar and gentle on her skin.

"Skye," they repeated.

Slowly, Skye lifted her head, stringy clumps of chocolate-brown hair falling away from her eyes. And there was Grant Ward sitting in front of her, worry dancing around in his stromy saphire eyes. He smiled sadly at her and mixed in with the worry was an awful little demon she was more horrifying of than the monster who had violated her; pity.

"What?" Skye asked, her voice hoarse and crackling.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

"Am I okay?" Skye hissed bitterly. "Am I okay? Are you nuts? I was raped, Ward, by one of your little Hydra _friends. _So no, I am not okay, Ward! I can still feel his damn hands on my skin and his lips on mine. The way his tongue ran over my neck and he forced my up against the wall. The way his palm felt flying across my cheek when I bit his lip. I am not okay!"

By now, tears were spilling down her cheeks and she was on her feet. She didn't realize how close she was getting to Ward, how her face was barely an inch away from his own. And by the time she realized, there was this unbearable urge to close that gap, but the desire pooling was brewing with the events that unrolled in the Hydra compund in her stomach made her feel like she was going to vomit.

"I'm sorry, Skye," Grant said relacing his hand on her cheek. "I'm so sorry that I couldn't stop that."

And just like that, the urge to kiss him was gone and the desire to sock him in the nose overpowered her entire body.

"You're not my superhero, Grant!" Skye shouted.

"I've seen heroes, and you're not one. People like Romanoff, Barton and Rogers are heroes. Not because they're perfect, but because they are willing to die to save the world. You, you're a coward. You are a mindless drone that's only purpose is to follow orders, no matter who's giving them. You are weak and moldable, like a lump of clay. And you might pity me because of what happened in that damn facility, but I pity you. I can make my own choices, but you can't."


	5. Chapter 5

"Listen here, Skye," Grant spat bitterly. "I _was _weak. I am not anymore. No one ordered me to save you, nothing kept me from actually betraying Fitz. But I'm changing, Skye, whether you like it or not."

"You aren't changing," Skye said. "You're acting, just like you did for all those months."

"God Damnit, Skye," Ward shouted. "I know that I screwed up, but don't you think you could give me the benefit of the doubt? Just this one time?"

"Why should I trust you?" Skye asked. "You tried to kill Fitzsimmons, Quinn –a Hydra operative –shot me, you tried to kill May, you pretended to be a member of our team for almost a year, and the worst part you pretended that you loved me."

"I did love you," Grant said. "I do love you."

"But I can't love you," Skye said. And Grant could see the tears pooling behind her big doe eyes, threatening to spill over.

"Why not?" Grant asked softly, his hand finding its way to her cheek. His thumb rubbed circles on her skin, brushing away the traitorous tears that did fall from her eyes.

"Because….you…you'll only hurt me," Skye gulped. She couldn't pull her eyes away from him. Couldn't bring herself to yank her body out of his gentle hold.

"I don't want to hurt you," Grant whispered, pulling her small body against his. "I'll never hurt you as long as I live."

Grant captured Skye's lips between his own, running his fingers through her mess of curly brown hair. She just melted into him, allowing her to just be Skye. Not Agent Skye Avery or the leader of the rising tide. Just Skye, a girl that no matter what she said, had given her heart to the man in front of her months ago.

And this man that had her entirely undone, was just Grant Ward. Not a broken boy from a small town, not a heartless SHIELD agent or a traitorous Hydra agent. He was Grant, a man madly in love with Skye.

"I love you," Grant said pulling away from Skye, breathless and gasping for air.

"I love you, too," Skye huffed back, trying to refill her screaming lungs.

* * *

><p>Skye woke up screaming, thrashing around in her bed. But she felt his hand on her back, pulling her back to this world, reminding her that she wasn't in that facility anymore. That the monster who had raped her had died when Fitz shot him in the chest.<p>

"It was just a dream," Grant whispered into her ear, pressing his lips to her temple.

Skye scooted closer to his body, feeling at home in his heat. Grant wrapped his arms around her, holding her against him like he always did when she woke up to the sounds of her own horrified shrieks. He ran his hand up and down her side, lulling her back into the realm of sleep. And she did the same for him when he awoke in a cold sweat. On nights when he saw his little brother in the bottom of the well or Fitzsimmons falling into the ocean or the faces of the innocents that he had shot under the control of Garrett. And sometimes he saw Garrett and the monster that he had become.

Skye would be there, a reminder that not everything he had done was awful.


End file.
